


Once Upon a Time in the Nest - Snake in the Grass

by Awahili



Series: Determinant [37]
Category: Zoo (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Series Rewrite, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 10:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17548115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awahili/pseuds/Awahili
Summary: "In every moment of choice, you create a new destiny." The team struggles to save Abigail's life after her run in with MacAvey, though they are unaware that one of their own isn't quite what they seem. A Jamie/Mitch rewrite.





	Once Upon a Time in the Nest - Snake in the Grass

**Author's Note:**

> Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.

Duncan watched the monitors with disinterest as Abigail questioned Jackson. He’d made sure to stay far away after a very disconcerting interaction with the man. Abigail had obviously rushed the installation of the bio-drive, and her sloppiness was allowing the suppressed consciousness to assert itself whenever Duncan faced off against something that evoked a strong emotion in Mitch. Apparently being called “brother” by Jackson Oz was a sufficient stimulus for Mitch to surge up. Duncan tamped down on it quickly, excusing himself on the pretense of boredom. 

Now he waited patiently for her to finish her diatribe and leave Jackson to rot. They didn’t need him anymore, and bringing him along would only slow them down. Once they had the frequency for the hybrids, they could activate the beacons and finally bring hell to everyone who had doubted them.

He shook his head sharply. That was Abigail talking. It was disconcerting, being little more than an artificial consciousness created for a single purpose. She had been careful to craft his personality just so, removing those pesky emotional parts that might make him question his existence or his actions. Still, he couldn’t help but form opinions about the world around him, and in his opinion her goal was akin to using a bomb to open a jar of pickles. 

Duncan snarled again as one of Mitch’s memories surfaced. _No one should like pickles that much_. He clenched his fists and forced the image out of his mind, replacing it with a steady recitation of the periodic table. That, at least, was concrete and steadfast. 

“I got it,” Abigail came through the door with a triumphant grin. “The frequency we need to control the hybrids.”

Duncan opened his mouth to congratulate her dryly, but he was interrupted by a shrill alarm from one of the nearby monitors. The flashing red letters indicated a proximity alert. Someone was on the premises. Abigail switched to the external cameras and cursed.

“How did they find us?” It was Jamie and Abe, along with Max and a fourth person he didn’t recognize. Abigail did, though. As soon as his face came into full view, she laughed hollowly. “Jared? How desperate are they?” She turned her head to Duncan. “Take care of them.”

“They’re here for Jackson,” he said. “Might as well let them find him. It will give us time to get away.”

“I have some things to finish up here, and it takes time. Stall them.”

He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t one of her creatures that she could just bark orders to, but something stopped him. He couldn’t seem to argue with her. Whether it was a feature she’d programmed into the drive or some deeper realization that he was - in fact - one of her creations after all, he snarled and grabbed the handgun she kept on the filing cabinet next to the door. It was heavy, and a quick check told him he had eighteen rounds. Four people would be no trouble.

Abigail’s control room was several corridors from the bay where she kept Jackson, and Duncan peered around each corner before striding confidently toward where he assumed the rescue party was. He’d expected Abe to be leading the charge, and so it took him by surprise when Jamie rounded the corner first followed closely by only Max. 

Duncan’s hesitation lasted only a split second. The look on Jamie’s face as he raised his arm and fired almost made him smile. She reeled as Max grabbed her and pulled her back around the corner for cover. Duncan fired off a few more for good measure.

“Mitch!” she called as just the edge of her face peered around the corner. “Mitch, I know you’re in there! You don’t have to do this!”

Duncan sneered as Mitch railed against his prison. He was furious, and it took more than a little effort to keep him down this time. He fired off another shot for good measure, the booming thud that reverberated in the small corridor enough to drown out Mitch’s screams of rage.

At first he thought maybe they had retreated. It was eerily quiet for a few seconds, then Jamie stepped around the corner unarmed and hands held high. She strode so confidently toward him that Duncan froze for a moment to admire her. She seemed to not notice Max’s rifle aimed just over her shoulder nor care about the large muzzle pointed directly at her face. Her eyes were locked onto his as she closed the distance, stopping just inside arm’s reach.

“Do you think I won’t shoot you?” he drawled.

“I think you’re out of ammo,” she answered. “I counted seventeen rounds. Or am I mistaken?”

She was so smug, so sure of herself, that Duncan had only one possible response. His sadistic glee was almost too much to contain. His finger squeezed ever so slightly on the trigger in anticipation of proving her wrong one last time. 

That was when Mitch burst free. Not all the way, not enough to exert total control, but enough to move Duncan’s aim from Jamie’s forehead to her arm. The final shot exploded from the barrel of the gun and tore through Jamie’s shoulder viciously. She cried out and fell as Duncan tried to wrestle Mitch back down. In that split second, Duncan forgot about Max and the older man was on him before he could raise a hand in defense. The first punch made him drop the now-empty gun to the floor, and the second connected evenly with his jaw. The last thing Duncan remembered was the bright red spray of blood on the floor in front of him. Then there was blackness.

He woke up in a cell. Judging from the steady thrum beneath him and the way the entire room shifted slightly, he guessed he was on the plane again. They were airborne again, though Duncan had no idea where they were going. He sat up gingerly, probing his jaw to check for any lasting damage. There was a hell of a bruise, but other than that everything seemed to be working. Max apparently didn’t want to do any real damage to Mitch. He could work with that.

The door at the top of the stairs opened and Max descended quickly. His eyes were piercing, and Duncan felt like a specimen under a microscope. His initial reaction was to remain stoic, show him nothing, but then another idea crept in. He feigned confusion and stumbled to his feet.

“Max?” he slurred, trying to inject as much emotion as he could muster. It wasn’t much. “What happened?”

Max stopped just short of the bars, his face still unreadable. “Mitch?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Who else would it be?” The older man froze and Duncan cursed silently. Mitch knew about Duncan already. He’d forgotten. Using the bars to support his weight, he sagged against them a little more than he really needed to. “Never mind,” he said. “I remember now.” He glanced up slightly, then gestured to the cell. “I see you finally took my advice.”

“You don’t remember what happened?” Max asked, then continued more softly. “Of course not, Duncan was in control. Mitch, something’s happened.”

Here it was. Duncan summoned every ounce of knowledge he had on Mitch’s emotions. He was going to have to fake outrage and grief and concern all at the same time. A hard ask from someone who was basically a psychopath.

“Tell me.”

“It’s Jamie...she’s...she was injured. Abe is working on her now, but she lost a lot of blood.”

“What? How? What happened, Max? Open this door.” He slammed his hand against the bars forcefully. “Dammit Max! Let me _out_!”

Max reached out and pressed the button that opened the cell door. Duncan slipped through as soon as he could fit, and he dashed up the stairs without looking back. He had to portray the right amount of panic lest anyone catch on that Mitch wasn’t the one in charge. His feet carried him to the lab automatically, though Duncan had never set foot in that particular area of the plane. As he crossed into the large space he froze as his mind tried to process what he was seeing.

Abe was hunched over one table, his shoulders tense. Duncan could see the fan of red hair just beyond his arm, though Jamie was still unconscious. There was blood all over the table and floor, much more than there should have been for a simple shoulder wound. He must have hit her brachial artery. 

As satisfying as that sight was, the figure curled up on the second table was just as harrowing. He had never seen Abigail so still, so lifeless, and for a moment he thought her dead. The thought was a scary one. He’d been designed for one purpose - to serve Abigail. If she was gone, then he was truly without direction, without purpose. Then he saw her chest rise and fall shallowly and realized she was still alive.

Duncan knew he was close to giving up the game, so he channeled the shock of seeing Abigail’s prone form into what he hoped was convincing worry. He closed the distance between the door and Jamie’s bed, coming around to the other side to see what Abe was doing.

“Jamie?” he whispered. He grabbed her cold fingers with one hand and brushed a strand of hair away from her face with the other. It was a foreign gesture that spoke of care and compassion, and Duncan suppressed a shudder of revulsion. He knew he had to play the part of concerned husband, but just the feel of her fingers in his made him want to run away. 

“Mitch,” Abe murmured, though his eyes never left the work he was doing on her left shoulder. “Mitch!” Duncan glanced up sharply. “I need you to check on Abigail.”

“I’m not leaving her, Abe.” He put as much force as he could muster into his words to make them convincing. 

“I understand you’re worried,” Abe went on hurriedly, “but if you do not help Abigail she will die.”

“And?”

“Son,” Max had appeared at his elbow. “I know how you’re feeling right now.”

“Do you Max? Do you know how it feels to know that the evil alter ego that lives in your brain is responsible for this?” He gestured to Jamie’s bloody shoulder. “That your hand was the one that pulled the trigger? She might die, and it’s all Abigail’s fault. She can rot for all I care.”

“Mitch?” It was Jackson. He looked like hell, but he was on his feet. It was a measure of his resilience, given what Abigail had put him through. “Mitch, please. I know right now it’s easy to hate her, but she’s...she’s my sister, Mitch.”

_Had Mitch already known that? Am I supposed to react? How would Mitch react to that?_

But Duncan’s silence had gone on too long. He winced internally at the slip up and tried to recover. “Jackson, think about how much she’s responsible for. The hybrids have killed thousands of people, and she’s not going to wake up and magically change her mind about destroying the world.”

“I know what she is. I know what she’s done. I don’t care. We’re saving her life, end of story.”

No one seemed to want to contradict him, not even Abe. Still, he couldn’t seem too eager. “Okay, then Abe can save her life. I’ll help Jamie.” Maybe he could “accidentally” sever an artery while he was working. How sweet would it be for Mitch to wake up and learn he was responsible not only for her injury, but for failing to save her life afterward? 

“I’m already in this,” Abe gestured with his chin to where he was suturing the gaping bullet hole in her arm. “Max can help you. Go.” 

With no other options, Duncan set his jaw and stepped back. He lingered only a moment more, selling the image of concerned husband, before walking over to Abigail’s table. Her skin was ashen and she barely breathing. There was blood leaking from a shallow head wound and more at the base of her spine.

“What happened to her?”

“MacAvey,” Max said. “Nearest we can figure, he gave us the slip at the earliest opportunity and confronted her.”

“She was ready for him,” Jackson added. “He grazed her, but she’s obviously a better shot. He was dead when we got to them.”

Duncan donned gloves and gestured toward the puncture mark on her back. “And that?”

“I...I extracted her spinal fluid.”

Inside Duncan fumed, but he kept it off his face. “And why would you do that?”

“Because she’s the final hybrid we’ve been looking for.”

So they had figured it out. Of course, he wouldn’t put it past Abigail to have bragged about it to Jackson’s face, thinking nothing of revealing something so damning to a man she was planning to kill. But hubris had always been a flaw of hers, and it seemed that flaw was coming back to bite her in the ass. As Duncan began hooking Abigail up to various monitors, he began thinking for a way to get off the plane once this was all over. 

“What’s that?” Jackson asked as one of the screens began emitting a rapid beep.

“I’m not sure,” Duncan glanced at the figures.

Max leaned down to peer at the blood trickling from Abigail’s ear. “Could be a tympanic rupture,” he said quickly. “Maybe pressure to her brain.”

Duncan disagreed. “The simplest explanation is usually the right one. Her spine is leaking.” He turned to grab a large syringe off of the instrument tray. “She needs a lumbar puncture.”

“Shouldn’t we open her up?”

“No time.” He jabbed the needle deep into Abigail’s spine and began drawing the plunger up slowly. The syringe filled with a viscous creamy liquid that Duncan recognized as cerebrospinal fluid. Jackson’s earlier extraction hadn’t been done with any level of precision or care. It was ironic, really. She would likely die from her own brother’s actions, and he was the only one advocating for her survival. It was almost poetic. Still, Duncan searched for something else that could be done. His own internal imperative was pushing him to save Abigail no matter the cost. 

“Nice job, son.” Max was almost smiling proudly. Duncan wanted to throw up. “I’ll get the MRI scan, see if we can’t find that CSF leak.”

Duncan tried to look perturbed that he’d had to save Abigail, but in his mind the pressure eased away as her vitals slowly returned to stable. With a break in the chaos, Duncan walked back over to the other table and peered over Abe’s shoulder.

“She is fine,” Abe said quietly. “You do not have to hover.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Max return with the MRI scanner and begin moving it over Abigail’s spine. He wanted to know what was going on, but leaving Jamie’s side now would be suspicious. He moved back around to stand opposite Abe and took her hand again.

“How’s our blood supply?” There was a half empty bag hanging above her head on a thin pole.

“We should be okay,” Jackson answered. “The IADG had this plane pretty well stocked.”

Duncan made note of that as he softly stroked Jamie’s hand. He stayed there for a moment keeping a keen eye on Abe’s handiwork and hoping for a slip up, but the man’s hand was steady as he sewed the wound closed. 

“Mitch,” Max called, and it took a second for Duncan to remember to answer. He stood up, hesitated, then leaned over and placed a kiss on Jamie’s forehead. It took every ounce of willpower to linger for a second, and when he pulled away he was pleased to see a small smile on Abe’s face. _Good_ , he thought, _the ruse is working_.

“I found the leak,” Max said as Duncan stepped back up to Abigail’s table. He brandished the handheld screen proudly. “Right there on the left.” 

Duncan studied the image for a moment as a plan formed in his mind. Perhaps he could save Abigail and thwart their plans at the same time. It was a satisfying thought, and as it coalesced further in his mind he knew it could work. With his best discouraging frown, he sighed.

“What?” Jackson was still looming just out of his peripheral, but as he spoke he closed the distance to peer at the screen himself. “What does it mean?”

“It means,” Duncan said, “that we will need to replace what you took.”

“You mean put the spinal fluid sample back?”

“No, no, not quite,” Duncan corrected. “She had internal injuries, so she lost more spinal fluid than you extracted. Now, we can synthesize a replacement, but…”

“You’ll need the other samples,” Abe added without looking over his shoulder.

“The samples we need to make a cure?” Jackson asked. He seemed almost forlorn, like he knew that would never happen.

“Yep,” Duncan reached into Mitch’s memory for the short response. “We can either save your sister or save all of mankind.”

Jackson went quiet for a moment. As the seconds ticked by, Abe finished up with Jamie and stepped back from the table.

“She will need to be moved to her room to rest comfortably,” he said,” but she will be fine.”

Duncan automatically moved to do it, knowing it’s what Mitch would have done, but Max jumped in before he could get far. “I’ll do it,” he pressed. “You’re needed here.” Duncan show the expected reluctance, then nodded when Max didn’t budge. 

“Abe,” Jackson finally broke his silence. “Didn’t Dariela say the nests contain every species of hybrid?”

“What are you thinking?” Abe sounded almost exasperated, but Duncan was intrigued. Were they actually going to hunt down one of Abigail’s nests and try to get more spinal fluid? If so, he definitely wanted to be off the plane before they began _that_ leg of the journey.

“Use the spinal fluids to save Abigail,” Jackson pleaded. “I’ll get more.”

“Jackson, no,” Abe shook his head sharply. “We cannot risk getting so close to a nest with Clem onboard. If anything happens to the baby…”

Duncan turned his full attention to the men beside him. Now there was an interesting idea. He’d almost forgotten about the young woman who was carrying the savior of humanity and resting so conveniently onboard. It would take nothing at all to go and check up on her under the guise of concerned father and -

_**NO. You’re not getting to Clem.** _

Duncan winced as Mitch raved from within his mental prison. Touchy subject. He made a note not to think about...well, to keep his mind focused on the task at hand. The team was going to try and hunt down one of Abigail’s nests. If they managed to do that, they could very well get enough spinal fluid to save Abigail and complete the cure. Unless…

Duncan looked down at Abigail’s prone form and calculated. It took him almost no time at all to come up with a solution.

Jackson and Abe were still discussing, though it looked as though Jackson had made an executive decision. “We’re going to Seoul.”

“Does this mean we’re saving Abigail with the spinal fluid?” Duncan asked.

Jackson was already up and halfway to the door. “Yes!” And then he was gone. Abe sighed longsufferingly and walked over to the basin to wash his hands. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” Duncan asked.

“I’m scrubbing in.”

Duncan scoffed. “I don’t need help.” If Abe assisted him, there was little chance he could enact his plan without being caught out.

“Tough,” Abe returned gruffly. “You’re still adjusting to new tech, remember?”

“I think I can handle a simple operation like this.”

Abe just smirked. “There is nothing simple about it, Professor. I’ll get the spinal fluid samples.” 

Duncan clenched his teeth and checked his annoyance. While Mitch might begrudge Abe’s belittlement of his abilities, he probably wouldn’t say no to an extra set of hands. Still, it would be much harder to achieve his goals, and he spent most of the next few minutes reformulating and calculating outcomes.

Duncan had everything ready by the time Abe returned. They carefully rolled Abigail to her stomach and gave her a sedative to keep her under while they cut into her back. They would need to go in manually and repair the tear and then keep her immobile for several hours afterward. Or, at least, Duncan was certain that was Abe’s plan. He had another.

“Retract the muscles so I can get at her spinal column,” Duncan ordered brusquely. Abe did as instructed, making no mention of his gruff demeanor. For once, Duncan was grateful for Mitch’s own surliness, especially when he was concentrating. It made it easier to drop the facade for a moment and just focus on the task at hand.

“Retractors are in,” Abe said. Duncan nodded and reached out with scalpel in hand. As he brought the blade near his target, he could feel that odd pressure building in his head again. Abigail had been pretty thorough in her programming. Abe’s large hand clamped around his forearm. “Mitch, wait. Stop. Severing that artery will kill her.”

Duncan sneered safely behind his mask. “I wasn’t cutting,” he explained. “I was moving the disc in order to prevent trapping a nerve.”

“Please be more careful.”

They worked together in silence for a while longer. It was slow going, especially under Abe’s watchful gaze, and it took them almost another two hours to finally get to the real problem. Duncan repaired the CSF leak as Abe injected the synthesized spinal fluid back into her system. As Abe announced the final injection, Duncan checked the monitors.

“Okay, I think it’s working.”

“Her vitals are going up,” Abe confirmed. “She’s going to make it.”

Jackson announced their descent just moments after they closed up the surgical wound. Duncan snapped his gloves off and helped Abe secure her gurney to the wall. He grumbled the entire time about landing a plane just moments after spinal surgery, but Abe just smiled and shook his head as though it was an everyday occurrence. Once done, he followed Abe toward the jump seats and strapped in just as the plane began dropping. 

Twenty minutes later they were at a stop on a tarmac in Seoul. Jackson and Logan were already suiting up for their mission into the nest, and at Duncan’s suggestion they added Harren to their little squad. 

“We’ll be back soon,” Jackson promised. “Keep a light on.” He clapped Abe on the shoulder and stepped up into the passenger side of the SUV. Logan was already at the wheel coordinating with someone over the phone. 

Abe raised a hand in farewell. “Be careful, _rafiki_.” 

“We will.” 

And they were gone. 

Duncan did a mental account. With Clem and Jamie still resting, that left just Abe, Max and Tessa to deal with, though the latter had been conspicuously absent since he’d woken up. He didn’t plan on being anywhere near Seoul when everything went to hell which, according to his calculations, would be soon. He feigned exhaustion and yawned widely.

As expected, Max took the bait. “You look tired, son.”

“Get some rest, Mitch.” Abe patted his shoulder warmly. “I will look after Abigail. It’s about time for her first injection of meperidine.”

Duncan kept his face neutral and his head throbbed from the building pressure, but forced himself to nod. Abe had no way of knowing that Duncan had already switched the meperidine for epinephrine, and as soon as he injected it into Abigail’s system it would kill her. He congratulated himself on finding a loophole to his pesky programming and consoled himself with the thought that Abigail’s death would most likely bring devastation and destruction to the world that much faster. She had said on multiple occasions that she would gladly give her life for the cause, though Duncan was pretty certain they had merely been the empty vows of a zealot. Still, she had planned to activate the beacons anyway. Duncan was just accelerating her timetable slightly. 

Realizing the others were still waiting for a response, Duncan nodded. “I need to check on Jamie anyway,” Duncan stifled a fake yawn. “I guess I can grab some kip while I’m there.” 

He thought about his options as he ascended the stairs and made his way to the living spaces. He stopped to peer in on Clem for good measure, just in case anyone was monitoring the camera feeds, then made his way to the master suite at the rear of the corridor. The room was dark when he slid the door back, though there was just enough ambient light to make out Jamie’s form stretched out on the bed. Duncan crept in and closed the door behind him. For a moment he was frozen, unsure what to do now that he was standing here. He was fairly certain Mitch would intervene if he tried anything too harmful, and he was already exhausted from the events of the day. Deciding to forgo his more malicious intentions for now, he sank down in the plush chair on the opposite side of the room. He thought about Abigail once more as he checked the clock. Abe had probably already administered the injection and was at this moment fighting to save her. A different man might have been sad at the death of his only friend - if that’s what he could call Abigail in the first place - but Duncan wasn’t ordinary. Instead of remorse he felt only freedom. Now all he had to do was figure out how to get off the plane.

A knock startled him and he jerked awake, surprised that he’d managed to fall asleep so quickly. He stood before the sound faded.

“Mitch?” It was Abe, his voice quiet but forceful through the thin door. Duncan shuffled over and slid it back slightly to reveal a rather haggard Abe standing on the other side. His eyes were wide with sorrow, and when he stepped back in invitation Duncan left the dark room to follow him into the corridor.

“Abigail is dead,” Abe began.

“How?”

Abe shook his head softly. “I do not know. Almost immediately after I injected her with the meperidine she went into cardiac failure. Her heart stopped. Max and I tried CPR, but we couldn’t bring her back.”

Duncan ran a hand through his hand, grimacing at the greasy feel under his fingers. He needed a shower. “Okay.” He blew out a breath between barely parted lips. “Has anyone told Jackson?”

“I called him,” Abe confirmed. “He and Logan are on their way back from the nests. There’s something else, but I’d like you to take a look at it.”

Duncan nodded and followed Abe back to the lab. He stopped short at the sight of Abigail lying on the gurney, her jaw torn open on one side. “What the hell happened in here?”

“She had this implanted in her mandible,” Max said from the work table just beyond the lab area. He produced a small vial with a tiny device no larger than a pill. “It was some sort of dead man’s switch. It activate the beacon in Tokyo and woke up the hybrids.”

“Luckily, Dariela and her team were able to blow the nest before any of them escaped. We uploaded all the information we could get on the other beacons. Hopefully the IADG can decode it and find all of the other beacons.”

Duncan took the device and brought it close to his face. He remembered implanting it in Abigail at her request. He’d told her to put it somewhere less conspicuous, but her dramatic nature wouldn’t let her hide her final act of destruction. She’d told him that, in the event of her death, she wanted them to know what she’d done. And it looked as if it had worked. 

“Son?”

Duncan looked up at Max and immediately realized his mistake. He had been smiling. Not a big, dopey grin - he’d never be capable of that kind of joy - but a smirk of satisfaction, of a job well done. And in meeting Max’s eyes he had forgotten to put his mask back on. There was a second of silence, and then another.

“Oh my God,” Max breathed. “You’re not…” Duncan lowered the vial and took a half step back. “Don’t move.” Max tried to sound threatening, but he had nothing to back it up. And he knew it. Duncan caught the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye and reached for the instrument tray. The scalpel was cool when he put it against his neck and he could feel the razor sharp edge pressing dangerously against his carotid artery as he put more space between him and the other two men.

Abe’s eyes squinted in confusion. “Mitch, what -”

“That’s not Mitch,” Max said. “It’s Duncan.”

“Back off,” Duncan ordered. “Nobody move. Or I will slit his throat.”

“What -”

Duncan stared Abe down. “Back. Off.”

Abe held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Max, what do we do?”

“You don’t do anything,” Duncan answered for him. “With the beacons activated, Abigail’s final plan is already in motion. All you’re going to do now is watch me walk out of here.”

“Why would we do that?” Max asked. “You have to know you can’t run away forever. We’ll just find you again.”

“Well, that just gives me incentive to kill all of you before I leave then, doesn’t it.” Duncan edged around them and began creeping back toward the vehicle bay one step at a time. Jackson and Logan had taken one of the SUV’s but there was still one left. It would be enough to get him away from the plane quickly, then he could find another mode of transportation that wasn’t easily trackable.

Before he could reach for the door it opened, admitting two of the three returning heroes. Jackson froze at the sight of the scene before him but Harren reacted much more quickly. With lightning reflexes his hand shot out and clamped around Duncan’s wrist, pulling the sharp scalpel away from the tender flesh of his neck. Duncan tried to struggle but the other man was stronger, adjusting his hold so that he could lever the dangerous instrument away from any exposed skin. 

In a flash Abe was there, too, adding his strength to the melee. Duncan didn’t stand a chance. He cried out in frustration as he was wrestled to the ground, a sharp twist of his wrist making him lose grip on the scalpel. 

“What the hell is going on?” Jackson roared. “What’s wrong with Mitch?”

Abe glanced up at his friend quickly. “This is not Mitch, it’s Duncan! Help us.”

Between the three of them they managed his struggling weight easily. Duncan sneered in defiance. “It doesn’t matter. We won.”

“Quick,” Max turned on his heel and made a beeline for the staircase. “To the bar.”

Duncan wriggled and fought the entire way, knowing that his own existence was about to come to an end. Abigail had given him just enough sense of self-preservation for the idea to worry him. At Max’s insistence they set him down in a chair. Abe stood on one side with a large hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest. Harren took the other side while Jackson bracketed Duncan’s knees with his own.

Max grabbed the contraption that was still hooked into the plane’s power system and stretched the attached cord almost to its limit. Duncan tried to turn his head to follow but Jackson’s hands came up to frame his face. 

“Hold him still.”

The first pulse was like fire erupting in every nerve ending of his brain. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, and the warm, coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. The second pulse rendered him blind. The third…

* * *

The first thing Mitch was aware of was the multitude of hands holding him down. The second was the blistering headache that threatened to split his skull open as he sat upright in the chair.

“Mitch?"

It took him a few second to register the voice behind him. Slowly the hands receded, leaving him weightless for a moment. He blinked once, twice…

_Great._

“Max, why the hell am I blind again?”

There was a whoosh of relief from somewhere over his left shoulder, then strong arms were enveloping him. “It’s good to have you back, son.”

The fact that Max was hugging him was odd enough. Then his hands raised of their own accord and returned the embrace. Mitch wanted to hurl.

The darkness quickly gave way to shadows, which began to gradually coalesce into the blobs of his friends. Abe, Jackson, even Harren were standing off to the side watching the exchange with a curious sort of intensity. _What the hell happened?_

He remembered arguing with the others about locking him in the cell, then something about an octopus hybrid attacking the ship. After that there was only darkness, but it wasn’t the sort of abyss that he’d experience while blind, that feeling of being surrounded by a vast nothingness with no way to navigate. No, this darkness had been more suffocating, more confining. He remembered struggling against the oppressive blanket of blackness and being unable to find a way out. He remembered…

“Oh, God.” He lurched from his seat somewhat unsteadily, but his feet stayed under him as he bolted out the door and toward the living quarters. He could hear the others behind him but he only had one goal, one thought. Get to Jamie.

She was lying in bed, looking for all the world like she was just sleeping. But Mitch knew better. He could see the stark white of the bandage on her arm. He could see, even in the dim light spilling in from the hallway, that the pale of her cheeks was just a shade too light from the blood loss. And when he closed his eyes against the sight, he heard the gunshot reverberate through his mind like a damning knell. He’d done this. He had shot Jamie.

“Mitch?” It was Max, alone now in the hallway. Mitch had heard him dismiss the others with a few quiet words. “Mitch, talk to me.”

Mitch’s breath left him in a humorless sigh. “What’s there to say? I shot her.”

“No, _Duncan_ shot her. You saved her life.”

Mitch whirled in a fury, one arm outstretched to jab a long finger toward Jamie’s prone form. “Does that look safe to you?”

“Duncan was aiming for her head,” Max remained calm in the face of Mitch’s anger. “But something made him move at the last minute. I think that was you.” 

Tears stung Mitch’s eyes and he blinked them away furiously. He felt Max’s hand wrap around his arm and tug him away from the open door. Mitch followed, feeling more like a lost little boy than a man of...however the hell old he was now. 

They ended up in the kitchen, and after a few moments of tinkering Max placed a warm mug of tea in his hand. They sat on opposite sides of the small circular table tucked against the sidewall as Mitch waited for Max to speak. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Mitch, Jamie’s going to make it. Abe did a good job patching her up.” Mitch’s silence was obviously not the reaction he wanted, so he rambled on. “What was it like in there? I mean, you’re still you and you could obviously assert yourself at some point during Duncan’s...control. So what was it like?”

Mitch thought about the question for a moment, unsure how to articulate his experience into words. That had never been his forte. _Jamie would know what to say_. He slammed his eyes closed against a fresh onslaught of tears and reminded himself that she was going to be okay.

“It was...dark,” he began slowly. “At first, I didn’t even know what was going on. And then, for a moment, I heard a voice.”

“Jamie?”

“No,” Mitch shook his head. “Jackson. It was Jackson’s voice. He was pleading with me and then he called me -” Mitch’s teeth clicked from the force of his mouth shutting. He wouldn’t reveal something so personal to Max. How could he explain to the man who barely qualified as his father that Jackson’s simple claim of brotherhood had been enough to reach him?

“Go on.”

“After that, it was just dark. It was like being trapped under a hundred feet of snow. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t feel, couldn’t breathe. And then she was there. I could hear her, pleading with me to stop. But I wasn’t _doing_ anything! It took me too long to figure out what was going on. By the time I had enough control, there wasn’t enough time to stop the pull of the trigger. So I did the next best thing I could think of.”

“Like I said,” Max sipped his own tea thoughtfully. “You saved her life.”

Mitch accepted his words with a single nod. He wasn’t convinced yet, and he was terrified that it could happen again. “How did you get him out of my head?”

At this, Max preened a bit. “The EMP. The others held Duncan down and I delivered all three pulses in quick succession. The bio-drive is now completely inert.”

Mitch stood up abruptly. “Then let’s get it out of my head before Abigail figures out how to reactivate it.”

“Abigail is dead.”

“How?”

“That part is a little unclear. Abe went to deliver an injection of meperidine after they gave her the spinal fluid transfusion and her heart just stopped.”

Mitch shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Meperidine is a pain killer, like morphine. One dose isn’t enough to stop a heart.”

“Well, when you’re feeling better maybe you can do an autopsy.” Max stood as well and clapped Mitch on the shoulder. “Let’s get that bio-drive out of your head so you can get back to your wife.”

The procedure took less than half an hour. Mitch opted for a local anesthetic rather than the meperidine just in case it was a tainted batch. Max made quick work of the brain surgery, and Mitch was glad for his uncharacteristic silence during the operation. Once it was over, however, he held up the petri dish inticingly.

“Wanna see it?”

“No, Max, I don’t.” Mitch stood up slowly and rifled through the cabinets until he found a suitable painkiller. He was going to need it in a few hours. “I’m gonna go lay down with Jamie. Don’t wake me up in a few hours.”

“Okay. And hey,” Mitch turned around only to be startled by another hug from Max, “I’m glad you’re you again. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”

“Yeah, okay.” Mitch disentangled himself from his father’s grasp and started back toward the stairs. As he climbed them slowly, he let the thought in his mind pass through his lips in a soft mumble. “Man, has this been a weird day.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay two things:
> 
> 1) I totally, completely missed The Mummy reference in this episode and I am _**kicking**_ myself for it. Come on guys, "...death was only the beginning." ?? How did I miss that? Ugh. #fanfail
> 
> 2) This is where everything goes completely off the rails. Hope no one minds. (j/k I'm totally aware that no one minds.)


End file.
